Page 19 of Unwritten Rules

“Then I don’t want it,” she said, waving over at Martha. “Miss Martha, can I get some pie, pretty please?”

She hollered back over the counter, “Which one, sweet pea?”

“An assortment!” A true smile spread over her lips.

Martha made haste with bringing out some initial pieces of pie. I’ve eaten almost everything here at one point or another, but usually wandered back to my usual plate. “These are our most popular, and Brent’s personal favorites, but I’ll be back with a sample of all we have so you can decide for yourself.” She flicked her gaze at me in a curious manner. Again, I knew I’d have to deal with the twenty questions about Fallon later.

She hurried away and Fallon looked back to the table, a sadness washing over her face. Did she hate these flavors?

“What are you pouting about?” I flicked the sausage I teased her with onto her plate hoping her awkward sad face would stop.

She sighed and pushed out her bottom lip even more. “I can’t bring this home. We rode on your motorcycle.”

That’s what makes you depressed?“You can get delivery next time, you know?”

Her eyes lit up. “Next time?”

I finished my coffee before responding, waving Martha back over for a refill. “Oh, yeah. You’ll turn into a proper addict for this place.”

The rest of the pie as promised appeared on the table while my coffee got a refill. “Hope you enjoy, sweet pea.” Martha didn’t bother to look at me whatsoever.

Fallon’s gaze flicked between me and Martha, probably wondering what the backstory was here. It looked like she was wanting to ask, but decided against it. Not asking was the better move–I didn’t want to get into my life story with the girl I just met when I knew Martha was going to hound me about it later.

Pulling out my wallet in an effort to appear like I was at least making good on a first date, I asked, “What’s the damage?”

Of course, Blondie reached into her purse as well. Martha looked between the two of us once again and held up a hand. “It’s... on the house tonight.” She disappeared into the kitchen, probably to spill the news about theinfamousBrent bringing in a girl to the diner on a random evening. It was out of character for me, and I would have a nice round of questions to try to skirt.

Fallon laid three hundred dollar bills on the table before diving right in, taking a bite of each piece of pie laid out before her. I flipped through my bills and matched her bid.

“Baller,” I challenged her.

“Could say the same about you,” she scoffed, taking in a bite of the blueberry pie. “Looks like Miss Martha can enjoy the morning off after we terrorized her.”

Laughing, I also took my fork to the piece of blueberry pie. I let her eat her fill of whatever her heart desired and hoped to God Martha didn’t come back around to yank me into the back for an interrogation.

After a beat comfortable silence of watching her eat, I glanced at the time on my watch. I needed to decompress before Reaper got back to me with who knows what in his report.. At least I could count on him for a good clean up job. The Dictator would be expecting me with the information we got soon.

I leaned forward, closing the distance between us just enough to drop my voice to a low, husky whisper. “Ready to go, Blondie?” I wrapped a strand of her pale blonde hair around my finger, holding eye contact with her. She looked nervous to be that close to me and her breath shortened just enough for me to notice.

It was cute before she pulled back and tried to compose herself, rubbing her newly formed goosebumps. “Only if you promise me delivery next time.”

Cocking my head to the side in curiosity, I gave her a half smile. She held out her pinky to me in an attempt to seal the promise. Oh, if she knew the things that were included in the promises I made... I latched her pinky with mine and promptly dragged her out the front door–not giving Martha the chance to flag me down.

“Hey!” she protested, pulling her finger from mine.

“I needed a smoke,” I said, catching her pinky with mine again. She wouldn’t get away from me that easily.

Popping a cigarette in my mouth one handed, she watched me with her mouth open again. If she wasn’t careful, I’d take full advantage of it right there in the open parking lot. She watched me with such strange curiosity as I lit it up and took a long first drag to clear my mind of the day’s events.

Little did she know, I didn’t plan to leave just yet. Anytime I went for a bite at the diner, I liked totrulyclear my mind at the nearby cliffside. Some days I contemplated jumping off and other days I just liked the view.Maybe I’ll jump off and drag you with me, I thought.

Still holding onto that soft little finger of hers, I dragged her across the parking lot and into the forested wall that had a trail leading to my serene cliffside. The thick foliage concealed us and she was quietly trailing behind me while the only sounds were the crunching beneath our feet and the crackle of the cigarette I was smoking.What? No smart ass comments?

We made it. The clear opening with that view from the cliff I loved so much. The expanse of the night sky opened up, the stars scattered across the black like a million tiny lights. Below us, there was very little light pollution to detract from the gorgeous wide open sky.

This was my favorite spot in the whole world, and she better not ruin it.

I let go of her and stepped closer to the edge–today made me want to jump. I finished off my cigarette and flicked it over the edge, turning my head up to the sky to beg the universe to ease my stress.

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